


Highway 69

by SS7Goddess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Flirts, No Slash, Work In Progress, brothers being brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SS7Goddess/pseuds/SS7Goddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stupid thing that started in my brain on a long drive obviously.  Dean would HATE Oklahoma.  Hate it.  At least he found a way to make the drive more entertaining with the help of a Jeep making the same trek.</p><p> </p><p>This is just the bones laid out to be picked over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highway 69

Few places sucked as bad as Oklahoma. The beer is 3.2%, liquor stores close at 9 PM and you can’t buy a drink at all on Sundays. Dean’ll be glad to hit the state line. If he can ever get there. And muggy as hell in the summer. Did he forget muggy because it should be on the list of things to hate at least 3 times. Dean hadn’t had time to look at the Impala’s a/c because of the hunt but he didn’t hold it’s abysmal interpretation of “cool” against her, he just dropped his window and made do.

The ghost was toast and as much as he loved time with Baby he was stuck with a very dull stretch of road ahead of him when he was ready to get gone. The sun was down and all 4 people who lived in this part of the state were evidently home watching Hee Haw reruns so the road was empty. Just him, the moon, and a drooling brother. Dean glanced over at Sam and considered fucking with him just to entertain himself.

Highway 69 was not interesting enough to live up to it’s name and that thought gives Dean some amusement for a couple of miles thinking of how he’d fill the empty store fronts he passes. The buildings start to dwindle from whatever that was passing as a town and Dean is left to adjust himself in the seat and settle in for miles of black.

Country, Jesus, and Country Jesus are the only radio stations coming in at the moment so one hand starts fishing around for a cassette because being alone with his thoughts is something to be avoided if at all possible. Sam hasn’t had enough rack time yet to pester into companionship though Dean considers it anyway if only to save Baby’s door from all that drool. Seriously?! Sam must love dogs so much because he’s part Great Dane with his size and saliva issue.

As _Tres Hombres_ was being contemplated Dean and the love of his life were bathed in bass. He glanced back to see a Jeep with a kayak strapped to the roof coming up blaring CCR’s “Fortunate Son”. Douche. It hovered briefly just off his sweet girl’s bumper causing Dean to smirk and unconsciously straighten up. Baby always gathered admirers; go ahead and look but don’t touch. There is almost a ritual to it now, te casual look to the left and quick upward nod in acknowledgement of how how awesome his car was in three, two...

And nothing. Nothing. It blew by like his beloved wasn’t chrome plated sex. Hell no, that doesn’t happen. His car is awesome! It is a universally agreed upon truth. A tap on the gas and Dean is catching up to see what sort of defect the Jeep douche is suffering from.

His headlights sweep the Jeep, black, with no top or sides, make that Mega Douche, and falls on a mass of hair whipping and writhing. Hippie Mega Douche then. Dean gives Sleeping Beauty a derisive glance. Sam has a fit if his window is down an inch complaining about his precious ‘do. If Granola can deal with it what’s his problem?

A few more feet reveals it’s a chick. Now this really doesn’t make sense. Women love his car, even women not into cars. And not that he’s vain but, not exactly Quasimodo sitting here either.

The long hair is hiding a woman that could be decent from what can be seen in this crappy light. Well, things might be looking up. She bounces in the seat singing along with what has become Queen’s “Under Pressure”. A girl listening to Queen? Is that allowed? A check of arm size is promising, not as big as his, good sign. A little goose to the gas and he’s along side. A hand sweeps up and this bizarre dame is singing in his direction with an earnest looking shakes of her head “..give ourselves one more chance. Why can’t we give love one more chance?” He can’t hear her over the music but the smirk and laugh is clear enough.

She did NOT just pull ahead of him. Nope. Not going to happen. Tonight just got more interesting. A plan comes together as Dean sweeps all the cassettes he can reach into the seat next to him. He finds Queen. A bit dusty but functioning. He fumbles with it until he has “We Will Rock You” queued up then cranks it up and hits the gas.

Uh huh, that’s right Dean thinks as he pulls up next to the Jeep and sees her start nodding her head to the beat Roger Taylor is laying down. That’s better he thinks and Dean puts on his most charming smile. OK, didn’t think this through. She’s mouthing the words at him again. Shit. “...big disgrace, Somebody better put you back into your place.” Fuck it. Dean joins in nodding his head and grooving as much as he can while maintaining his cool.

“Dean can you turn it down please?”

“Just put your headphone things on. I’m driving and I need the music” Sam huffs but fishes under the seat and fishes out one of the tools that keeps him from murdering Dean on a daily basis. He'd say it was one of the best investments he'd ever made but Dean lifted them from someplace after Sam held _Garage Inc._  out the window and dared Dean to play the Scorpions one more time. Dean drops back in his lane and rustles through the tapes earning another glare from Sam before he tips his head back towards the window.

Ok, what next? ZZ. Let’s do some ZZ. OK, this is really taking too long. Stupid tapes. Not that he’ll EVER let Sam know. “La Grange” is going and he pulls back up aside. “Great fucking song!” He’s not sure how much he heard as much as read on her lips but she’s turned her sound down to hear what he was playing. Cruising and flirting at 70 mph to good music; not a bad way to spend a night.

She holds up a finger and drops back. When she pulls back up along side she’s got “Walk This Way” going full blast. Dean’s head thumps back against the seat in appreciation. Hell yeah. Aerosmith? She likes Aerosmith? Dean points at her grinning in approval of her musical upbringing. Soon both were grinning like lunatics and mouthing lyrics back and forth.

Several miles passed while they played each other songs for inspection and a challenge. Taking turns surging ahead and falling back to line up the next song. He countered “Walk This Way” with “Rockin’ Down the Highway”. That was met with “For Those About To Rock”. AC/DC? OK girl, it’s on. “Shoot to Thrill” followed by “Have a Drink On Me”. He’s still not entirely sure what she looks like but he can see enough to fill in the details enough to have fun with this. “Sharp Dressed Man” with a hand drug slowly along Baby’s door fondling her. This was met with riotous laughter and an enthusiastic nod. “Back In Black” vs “Black Betty”. “Shoot To Thrill”. Time to mix it up so he goes with “Cherry Pie”. She returned with “American Woman” but by some guy Dean didn’t know. He didn’t recognize it but he did recognize the way she reacted to it. She was slithering in her seat a little and had a grip on her hair. Dean twitched and strained his neck toward the Jeep, did she just do a pelvic thrust?  Dean can get on board for that. “Bad To The Bone”. “Desire” by Meg Myers. Ok, that was a bit new for Dean but he he’d heard it on the radio.  He wasn't as dense as he let Sam believe.  A person can't spend the amount of time that he does in the car and bars and not be aware of what's being played.  The conversation had definitely shifted though, time to ante up.

“Fuck!”

“What are you looking for?” Sam asked wearily pushing his headphones up and back a bit as he stretched.

Dean took in Sam’s expression and decided he didn’t care for it. “I got it.” KISS was popped in and he began the process of narrowing it down to the song he wanted.

“She’s got you out-teched man” Sam sighed and he reached for his ipod.

“What are you talking about? I thought you were asleep anyway” Dean grumbled, bent over the wheel stabbing at the buttons on the radio. How long would he have to wait before swapping out the radio/tape player without Sam being a complete bitch about it?

“Like sleep is possible with the way you’re driving and bouncing tapes off me. She’s digital and you, you’re 1982 Dean.” That earned him a glare but it was worth it. He’d be kissing Sam’s ass soon enough. Some more rooting around produced a cassette tape with a cord attached.

“What the hell is that?” Dean alternated between watching the road, Jeep (as he now thought of her), and giving Sam hard, disapproving looks.

“A bridge to modern world. It lets my ipod or laptop use the car’s speakers. Now shut up and tell me which song.” Sam asked as he popped in the Frankentape and plugged it into his ipod. Damn it, couldn’t really argue with the look that statement got him but if Dean was fool enough to say one word he was going to pull it out, go back to sleep and leave Dean to embarrass himself some more.

Dean’s jaw tightened but stared straight ahead while picking “I Was Made For Loving You”. If he looked over and saw the smirk that he knew Sam was sporting he was going to have to punch him and it wasn’t worth the risk to Baby or his fun with Jeep.

Within seconds the bass was flowing and Dean pulled up next to Jeep who had moved to the outside lane while she waited. He had to give it to Sammy; this was much faster.

This was a tactical error.  Jeep was taller than him and on the inside lane he couldn’t see her unless he practically leaned across Sam’s lap. Jeep pulled ahead and back to the inside lane and Dean began to wonder if he’d somehow done something wrong when some crappy piano music with kids singing something he couldn’t make out was returned from Jeep.  She was looking in his direction with a head tilt that belonged to someone else.

Sam let out a snort. “What? You know that? How do you know that?” Dean demanded as he tried to puzzle out the message in the sudden change in her playlist.

“It’s “Frere Jacque” Sam offered with a wry grin. It was met with a blank stare and tight lips that was as close as Dean would come to admit not knowing something Sam did. Something he felt he should know. “”Are You Sleeping”? It’s a kid’s song. She must have just realized I’m in here” Sam tried again. Dean’s brow furrowed trying to come up with an appropriate response and looked at his clutter of cassettes for inspiration. “I got this D” and Sam began scrolling madly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean demanded as Baby’s speakers were corrupted with country twang.

“It’s Patsy Cline, she’ll recognize it. Everyone recognizes it. Kayak will get it”

Dean jerked his head in Sam’s direction and looked at him like he’d grown a second head. Which in their line of work... “Kayak? What the hell is Kayak?”

“I’ve been calling her Kayak in my head” Sam replied with a shrug already going back to his list of songs he’d downloaded previously incase he needed to bribe or placate Dean.

Dean huffed and looked over to Jeep to gage how big of a beating Sam earned. She was shaking her head but smiling. Aerosmith’s “Dream On' would have been better, a rough shoulder check then, on principle.

Things picked back up quickly with Sam playing DJ although Dean made him slump back down in the seat and keep his head down since he was supposed to be asleep. Jeep picked the ZZ Top thread back up by playing “Gimme All Your Lovin”. Sam mentally groaned at the existence of a woman as musically stunted as his brother. “You got “Hot Blooded” on there?” Dean asked from the corner of his mouth as he smiled a smile that would seal the deal in a bar but wasn’t sure worked from across the asphalt.

Jeep went very still but stared hard in Dean’s direction. The next song was all in; she'd be on the hook or she’d be gone. “Talk Dirty To Me” Hot damn.

“Pour Some Sugar On Me”  
“You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet”  
“Burnin’ For You”  
“Hit Me with Your Best Shot”  
“Lord of the Thighs”

 

“What is that? Sam, what is that?” He kept his smile firmly in place but was slapping Sam across the chest with one hand. How is he supposed to respond when he doesn’t know it. Sam looked as baffled as Dean. He’d blown it with “Lord of the Thighs”. Fun while it lasted.

Sam was hunched forward staring at the dash frowning “If I can just catch a line or two I can Google it.” Both men strained their ears and stared blankly ahead focusing like the world depended on it, luckily for once the world wasn’t counting on them figuring the puzzle out. Just Dean’s libido.

Suddenly Sam was grabbing his laptop and typing furiously. Sam straightened up looking at the screen like it would bite if he took his eyes off it. A slow roll of his head towards Dean and raised eyebrow had Dean ready to pull over and loosen his teeth for him. “Do not mess with me right now Sam. What is it?”

“Take me Home”


End file.
